


My Punishment

by resonae



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M, Rape, Threesome, Whipping, non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-05
Updated: 2012-09-05
Packaged: 2017-11-13 15:17:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/504883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/resonae/pseuds/resonae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint fights the haunting of Loki's control by punishing himself. It shouldn't infuriate Tony as much it does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Punishment

**Author's Note:**

> For Anon's prompt,
> 
> Please can we have : after the whole Loki incident, Clint is on a mjor, major guilt trip over his involvement of the whole thing. I want him to punish himself over it. First he mght go to fight clubs to get the physical pain, but since he is an agent, physical pain is common ans it's no longer enough. So he starts going to sex clubs/whore house taking the role as victim for people who has serious rape fantasies. In then end, Tony found out and fixes things. Lots of rough sex on Clint, please :D!

Tony knew Bruce. Tony knew Steve. Tony knew Thor. Tony knew Natasha. Tony knew Coulson, and Tony knew Fury. He didn’t know Hill, but that didn’t really bother him. He’d get to know her later. Plus, she didn’t live in his tower.

 

He didn’t know Clint Barton. They interacted once – maybe twice – and that had been it. Even now the archer kept himself distant away from the rest of the Avengers, talking only to Natasha and sometimes to Steve and Bruce when they tried hard enough. And Tony got it. He was depressed. Not just depressed as in I-hate-the-goddamned-world depressed. It was depressed as in I-don’t-deserve-to-live.

 

Clint walked through the Helicarrier because he had to, but Tony could see if even a choice, Clint would hurtle himself off the aircraft. People whispered and pointed where he walked, and some openly sneered at him. Clint took the verbal abuse quietly, and once Steve had even caught two men brutally beating Clint. Tony remembered Bruce silently treating all his bruises and cuts. He remembered hearing Clint beg Natasha not to do anything to the two men.

 

“Where’s he going?” Tony wondered out loud. Clint had been leaving the tower every day at around 1 AM, without fail. He didn’t come back until 4 or 5, and every time he did he limped horribly and collapsed into bed like there was no tomorrow. Tony had JARVIS alert him every time he left and every time he came back. “JARVIS, I should confront him. Shouldn’t I confront him? I should do something about this. I’m going to regret it if I don’t.”

 

“ _You’ll regret it if you do, sir._ ”

 

“Yeah, but I’ll regret it more if I don’t. Tell me when he comes back, will you?”

 

“ _Of course, sir._ ”

 

Tony found, for the first time in his life, that he couldn’t actually focus on what he was doing. He growled, frustrated, and slammed his hands on his table. “Fuck that, JARVIS. I’m just going to go wait in his room. Warn me anyway when he comes in.”

 

“ _Certainly, sir._ ”

 

Tony cautiously slid into Clint’s room. It was clinically neat and coldly unpersonal. The only thing that told Tony that this was Clint’s room was from the rows of quivers filled with arrows on one wall, and the mess of blankets on his bed that resembled… well, a nest. He snorted and walked over to it. “Does he actually sleep in this thing?”

 

“ _Yes, sir, I believe so._ ”

 

Tony frowned. Right. He’d disabled JARVIS’ surveillance on the floors where the Avengers lived because… that was creepy in a Big Brother way. He sat down on Clint’s large bed and wondered if he could ever get the sheets to untangle from each other. He tugged half-heartedly at one end, and froze. “Blood.” Tony whispered. “JARVIS, that’s blo-”

 

He was interrupted by JARVIS. “ _Sir, I apologize for cutting you off, but Agent Barton has entered the Tower and is on his way up._ ” Tony frowned and turned his attention back to the sheets, and tugged hard at one end. It came away with a strain, but he managed to tug it out of its tangle. And that was definitely blood on the sheets. He turned back to the nest – broken now – and was in the middle of untangling it, coming up with more blood-stained sheets, when he felt a press of a cool metal on his neck.

 

“What are you doing, Stark?” The voice was low, dangerous, but Tony caught the trembling in it.

 

He decided not to back down. He turned, and the dagger pressed to his throat did not press further. It was a touch on his throat. A warning, Tony knew, but not one Clint was likely follow through with. “Wondering where the hell you go for 3, 4 hours every night come back limping. And now your sheets are covered in blood. What the hell is going on, Barton?” Clint scowled but said nothing. As Tony expected, the dagger was put away, slipped back into the sheath strapped to his thigh. He ignored Tony and looked almost sadly at his ruined nest. “Pretty dagger, by the way. Can I see it?”

 

Clint looked at him silently for a while. “I can’t tell if that’s an innuendo or not.” Clint said finally. “With you, you probably meant it both literally and sexually.” Before Tony could say anything, Clint held out the leather sheath and handed the dagger to Tony. “Specially made.” Clint said, smiling sadly. “Coulson gave them to me for Christmas years back.”

 

“You use them often?”

 

“Yeah.” Clint sighed. “If you’re interested, I’ve got an entire set.” He winced a little as he turned, but Tony made no comment on it. He wasn’t going to, until he figured out what was going on. And if Clint wanted to act like there was nothing wrong, then he was going to play the game until one of them backed out. And it wasn’t going to be Tony.

 

Clint opened his drawer and took out a case. Four daggers glinted sharply even in the dim light. Clint had been taking good care of his knives. “Do you also throw these?”

 

Clint nodded, taking his dagger back from Tony’s hand. “Yeah.” His answers were clipped, and Tony saw it. The blossom of red, almost invisible on Clint’s black shirt, on Clint’s back. Tony grabbed Clint’s shirt – he didn’t know if Clint was letting him or if Clint was just in that bad of a shape – and yanked it up. Clint twisted away, but not before Tony had seen the full damage.

 

“Barton.” Tony hissed. “What the fuck?” Clint said nothing. He was pointedly looking away with a deep scowl on his face, and he stepped backward when Tony stepped closer. “Barton, I’m going to make JARVIS hold you down. JARVIS, scan him for any other injuries.”

 

JARVIS spoke up. “ _While I am not too keen on that, sir, perhaps this information may help. Agent Barton has semen from three different males that’s starting to soak into his jeans._ ”

 

Both Avengers froze. Clint looked like he might start crying, and Tony was furious. This time when he stomped toward the archer, Clint made no move to flinch away. “That’s not fair.” Clint protested weakly as Tony peeled the bloodied shirt from his torso. “You can’t let JARVIS scan me like that. I want some fucking privacy, god damn it.”

 

His voice was trying to bite, Tony realized, but he was exhausted. Tony was gentler as he coaxed Clint to the bathroom, telling JARVIS to warm a bath and get the necessary things for Clint’s injuries. He made a note to ask Clint about it, later, when his eyes weren’t so broken it looked like shards of green and blue and gray was going to shatter on the floor.

 

When he sat Clint down on the edge of the tub, he sucked in a sharp breath. The wounds were much clearer in the brighter light of the bathroom. “These look like…”

 

“Whiplash.” Clint clarified, sighing dejectedly. His body was the picture of defeat. He was giving himself up, Tony realized, because he was exhausted. Or perhaps Clint had hoped, somehow, that someone would find him like this one day and make it better. Tony cursed himself for not noticing earlier, because to hell with it if he’d only known the archer for 12 weeks and had barely communicated. They were teammates. Friends. People who went through hell and came back together.

 

“From what?” Tony had a hard time believing Clint could be this injured without any of them knowing about it. He’d seen Clint battle. Sure, he and Natasha were a bit too human and bit too unprotected for Tony’s liking, but the two moved like sharks in water. Fast, liquid and deadly. Not much got to them, and if it did, it must have been big and dangerous enough for all of them to hear about it. But then he remembered. He remembered Natasha scowling as Clint limped out of an explosion. Remembered her yelling at him in Russian, obviously upset about something. Remembered the cuts and bruises and burns and broken bones that… “Clint.” He spoke. The first name rolled off of his tongue like honey. “Why are you letting people hurt you?”

 

Clint said nothing, and Tony didn’t press. He worked quietly at the bleeding slashes on Clint’s back instead. “Tell me how – tell me how they did this to you. I want to hear it.”

 

Clint dropped his head. “Whipped me, with a thorn whip.” He whispered. “He had his cock shoved up my ass and he said he liked the way I tightened around him when he whipped me.” Tony tried not to let his hands shake as he gently patted the blood away. He considered the salve but decided Clint needed the bath first. “There was a second guy with his cock in my mouth, and he kept hitting my wounds. Said it was nice the way I screamed around his cock.”

 

Tony traced the wounds before gently tugging at the band of Clint’s jeans. Clint said nothing as he unbuttoned his jeans and let Tony tug them off. More bloodied welts littered along Clint’s ass and his thighs, and Tony tossed the jeans into the laundry chute. He guided Clint into the water, which stained pink immediately from the blood. “Does it sting?”

 

“Yeah, but it’s okay.” Clint said, his eyes still closed and head still bowed. “They fucked me hard, one at a time, and then they decided I was loose enough to take both of them at the same time. I wasn’t. I tore. Not that they cared.”

 

Tony saw the strings of white as they floated up to the surface and decided to comment against it. “Will you tell me where you go to…. Where do you find people to do this to you? And who was the third person?”

 

“It’s somewhere you go to… it’s somewhere people come to play out rape fantasies.” Clint opened his eyes again, and Tony fought not to wince at the broken gaze. “The third guy was the person who owns the place. He lets me come there and.. get fucked by his clients for free, as long as he gets to fuck me, too.” Clint closed his eyes and dropped his head again.

 

Tony and Clint sat in silence. Tony watched the hot water get darker red. “Let’s get you out of it. You’re going to bleed out if you stay in there.”

 

Clint laughed mirthlessly. “Bleed out to death. That’d be nice, yeah.” Tony didn’t know if it was sincere, but Clint didn’t resist as Tony helped him out. Tony let the water drain and rinsed the bloody water from Clint with a gentle, warm spray. “Are you going to take care of me?”

 

“Yeah. JARVIS, heat up Clint’s room, light it up and spread a warm towel on his bed, will you? Big enough to lie him down on.”

 

“ _Yes, sir_.”

 

Tony patted Clint down as best as he could, staining his white towels a dark red as blood started to seep from the wounds again. Clint had his eyes closed and he was letting Tony do the steering as he walked, and Tony felt the warm air hit them. He didn’t bother dressing Clint as he helped Clint lie face down on the bed, on top of the towels.  “You should fuck me.” Clint said as Tony slapped a generous amount of salve onto his palm. “I want to get fucked.”

 

“Out of luck, Barton.” The last name was back again. Tony worked in silence as he spread healing salve onto the tattered back, ass and thighs, and paused at the white and red ribbons on the inner thighs. Taking a sharp breath, he pressed a towel to the trails, wiping them away firmly, before he took a firm globe of flesh in each hand and spread it gently.

 

Extensive bruising and tearing. Tony scooped out more salve and gently spread it around the abused ring of muscle, wiping away the globs of semen that slid out of it on occasion. When he was done, he laid himself down next to Clint. “If I tell you to stop going to where you’re going to let bastards rape you, will you stop?”

 

“No.” Clint’s answer was soft.  “And it’s not rape if I want it.”

 

“Will you tell me where you’re going?”

 

“No.”

 

“How about why you’re hurting yourself?” Tony stared up at the ceiling, not at Clint, and knew the other Avenger was staring into the other wall. “Will you tell me that?”

 

After a long silence, Clint let out a soft whimper. “It’s punishment. For killing people. For shooting people. For letting Loki take over.”

 

Tony froze. He screwed his eyes shut. “That wasn’t your fault. None of it was.” He sat up. “Clint.” The first name was back, again. “Clint, none of it was your fault. You know that.” Clint shook his head and kept his gaze firmly away from Tony. After a long moment of silence, Tony closed his eyes. “All right then. If I can’t get you to stop, I want you to come back and tell me in detail what these fuckers do to you. It’ll be my punishment. For not being able to stop my friend from hurting himself.”

 

\--

 

“Handcuffs.” Clint said one day as Tony bandaged his chafed and bleeding wrists. “They had me hanging off the ceiling and fucked me two at a time. Whipped me while I tried to get footing on the floor. Fucked me from the front and whipped me from the back.”

 

The next day, Clint came back, gasping for breath with thick bruises in the shape of fingers around his neck. “Strangled me.” Clint explained, as Tony kept his hands from shaking in anger. “Said it makes me tighter when I’m trying to breathe.”

 

Electric torture the next day. Fisted to tear the day after. Cigarette burns. Then the creativity stopped and the cycle repeated as Tony gritted his teeth treating all of Clint’s wounds. Clint limped in one day and held his stomach. “Tony.” Clint said, closing his eyes. “I… You can go upstairs back to your room today.”

 

Tony refused, and Clint struggled before wincing and falling to the ground, his knees buckling. Tony caught him before Clint could hit the ground, and scowled when his hands hit something hard under Clint’s jeans. Tony tugged Clint’s pants off with an angry snarl, already knowing what it was. The steady buzzing of a vibrator greeted him, along with a belt of sorts that was locked at Clint’s waist, firmly keeping the vibrator lodged inside Clint.

 

Not to mention the way Clint’s stomach was slightly swollen. “Clint.” Tony’s voice was low. “Why is… why is your stomach like that?”

 

Clint swallowed before answering. “I don’t know how they got it. Must have been keeping a supply of it, I don’t know.” His teeth chattered as he spoke. “Four quarts of semen, Tony.”

 

And that was the last straw. Tony didn’t know what it was. That Clint had stale semen – because no way the club had enough men to draw out _four quarts_ of semen, even in one day – swirling in his stomach, that he was clearly in distress and thought he deserved it, or the broken name Clint whispered. Tony pulled Clint up the elevator – everyone was asleep at this point anyway – and shoved him on top of his work bench. “Stay still.” Tony gritted his teeth. “You’re not going back there anymore, you hear me?”

Clint reached over to rest his head on Tony’s shoulder. “Yeah.” He whispered, shaking. “You’ll fuck me?”

 

“Fucking hell, yes, I will, but I’m not going to hurt you like this, not now, not ever. You don’t deserve this, Clint. Fuck, Clint, you _saved_ the world.” Clint was crying, hot tears dropping soundlessly onto Tony’s shoulder, but Tony didn’t make a comment. He fumbled with the lock for too long. He would’ve snapped it open in seconds, but his hands were shaking in sheer anger, but it snapped open and he yanked the belt off.

 

“Wait.” Clint said, voice desperate. “I… Bathroom. I don’t want to-”

 

Tony understood. He wordlessly gripped Clint to him, hands firm on his abused ass, and let Clint wrap his legs around him. “JARVIS, check Clint for any diseases.”

 

“ _Already done, sir. Agent Barton is clean_.”

 

Tony didn’t know what he would have done if Clint ended up contracting something from the men who’d humiliated him so thoroughly. He gently sat Clint in the tub and placed his hand on the end of the vibrator again. “Clint.” He said, and Clint nodded. He eased it out and felt the anger strike again when it came out with a string of red. Clint grabbed his face then and their lips met in a violent kiss as Clint shivered against him. Tony didn’t really need the acrid smell of too much semen to know what was happening, but held Clint against him as he mewled brokenly against him.

 

Tony didn’t bother looking down at the mess of semen that was beginning to soak through his jeans. He discarded his clothes in frustration and turned the shower jet on full, spraying the unwanted liquid and smell away. “There’s more.” Clint whispered against his shoulder. “It won’t come out.”

 

Tony looked down at Clint, forehead still pressed against his shoulder, and sighed. “Do you trust me?”

 

Clint stiffened. “I don’t trust anyone.”

 

Tony chuckled sadly. “Right. Okay, let’s change the question. Can you tolerate me enough for me to do something?” Clint laughed, and it was a broken sound that Tony never wanted to hear again. But he nodded slowly against Tony’s shoulder, and Tony pressed the shower nozzle down, making sure to turn the strength down. He didn’t press it into Clint’s already abused muscle. He pressed as much as he could on it without it actually slipping inside, and pulled away every few seconds so water could do its job and wash out the bits of semen still clinging to Clint’s inside.

 

At least, he noted, Clint’s stomach wasn’t bloated anymore. He felt a swell of disgust and relief at the same time. “JARVIS, fill the tub with hot water.” The faucet started running immediately, filling the large tub with hot water. He scooted Clint’s hips closer to his than even before, and lifted him up easily with the buoyancy of the rapidly filling water. He didn’t say anything – Clint seemed to know it, to expect it, to want it.

 

He sank inside Clint easily. The muscles were loose from their previous abuse not too long ago, and Tony tried not to think about how the vibrator was still rolling around on the floor of the bathtub. Or maybe not. JARVIS had it probably crushed and burned in the trash chute already. Clint was clinging to him, head still on his shoulder, arms clutching his back, and Tony pretended not to notice the hot tears dropping onto his shoulder, scrolling down to his chest. “You feel good.” He whispered, using the water to help him move Clint. “You feel so good, Clint.”

 

Clint laughed again, watery and muddled. “Used.” He said. “I’m a loose, used little whore, they said.”

 

Tony nibbled on Clint’s ear, panting hot breath across it. “I didn’t know you had an ear piercing.” He poked the piercing with his tongue. “You feel so good, Clint.” He whispered honestly. “Tight.” He was steering the conversation the only way he knew how. And whatever Clint’s assaulters had told him, it wasn’t true. A part of Tony’s brain marveled at how good it actually felt inside the archer, how the strong muscles didn’t seem to be a part of just his arms and back and thighs, but _inside_ him as well. “You’ve no idea, huh?”

 

Clint clutched harder onto his back. “They made me finger myself open a few times while they watched.” He confessed. “I know how I feel inside.”

 

Tony snarled openly, and Clint said nothing. After Tony managed to bring his anger down back to manageable, he dug his teeth into Clint’s earlobe. Clint flinched but didn’t pull away. “I’ll fuck you as often as you let me.” He whispered. “Don’t go back there. Fucking shit, Clint, just…” He clutched Clint tighter to him. “Don’t go back there. I can’t hurt you, Clint, but I’ll fucking… I’ll _love_ you, and fuck everyone who looks at you any way you don’t like because I’ll just shoot them with my repulsors.” Clint laughed again, this time a little less shattered, and Tony hitched his hips up again.

 

“Gotta go back.” Clint said. “I have their vibrator.”

 

“Too late. JARVIS crushed and burned it down the trash chute.”

 

“You can’t rebuild it for me?”

 

“As much of a genius as I am, I haven’t actually figured out how to make stuff out of ashes, no. It sort of goes against the laws of entropy-”

 

“All right, all right.” Clint laughed again, sounding a little stronger this time. “I got it. They’re gonna be looking for me.”

 

“Mm. I’ll take care of that.” Tony said, licking Clint’s ear again. “Not that you couldn’t give them a piece of your mind if you wanted to.” Clint bit into Tony’s shoulder, and all Tony could do was laugh.

 

And when two days later, Tony led the alien-of-the-week to a shady corner of Manhattan and blast down an underground sex cartel, no one yelled at him about the monetary damages.


End file.
